


Lilith

by bittenfeld



Category: David Bowie (Musician), Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Male Slash, Slash, incestual attraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-16 13:02:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4626252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bittenfeld/pseuds/bittenfeld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>just a short beginning bit.  Jareth is a wizard-prince, where magical powers – and long towhead hair –  run in the family.  After a long absence, his sister – a witch-queen from a neighboring domain at war – comes to request his assistance.<br/>(Disclaimer:  This has nothing to do with “Labyrinth” – I just have a heavy crush on Jareth, so I just use him in a completely different setting)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lilith

**Author's Note:**

> I based Paul’s looks on the way David Bowie looked in the 1976 movie, “The Man Who Fell to Earth”.

The surprise literally caught the breath in Jareth’s throat. No one could have surprised him more than the visitor who now stood just inside the doorway beside Paul and a young woman, all watching him as he descended the stairs to the sitting room.

“My god, Lilith,” Jareth blurted, striding forward, arms outstretched to the older woman. A smile tightened his lips – more of confusion than pleasure, Paul noted, or was that just his imagina­tion?

Lilith, a woman who could have been Jareth’s female double, smiled congenially as she stepped into Jareth’s embrace. “Hello, Jareth,” she greeted, and kissed him long and full on the mouth. They must have stayed that way for a minute or more, hugging tightly, eyes closed, lips pressed hard like old lovers reuniting, until the woman who could have been Jareth’s twin, finally broke the kiss and, with arms still around his waist, smiled up at him and announced, “You look wonderful, brother dear. You don’t look forty.” A caressing finger stroked a lock of his long tow­head mane that matched her own, stroked lovingly under his chin, touched his lips.

“Neither do you,” Jareth agreed, acknowledging to kiss her fingertip briefly, “but we were both twenty the last time we saw each other, and that was twenty years ago. Damn, it’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you.”

Jareth’s gaze touched Paul standing off to the side. “Paul,” he introduced, “this is my twin sister, Lilith. Paul is my body-servant. I’ve raised him since he was five, sort of as a ward.”

“Mistress,” Paul greeted obediently.

She smiled at the pink-haired young man. “Jareth,” she complimented, “he’s very… pretty.”

Eyes dropped subserviently, Paul returned the smile.

Then Jareth’s attention turned to the other newcomer standing beside Lilith: a young woman, thin and gaunt, dressed in a wine-satin tunic with black lace sleeves and tight black satin pants which slipped into black boots. She was nearly Paul’s height, but even thinner than Paul’s light frame, flat-chested, haunted blue eyes ringed with long black lashes, beautiful soft cheeks, full tender lips that could raise the pulse of any man. And the family trademark: long towhead locks, a beautiful mane of pale blond silk like Jareth’s and Lilith’s, but even longer, thick, full, halfway down her back and chest. Jareth grinned, eyes absorbed the youthful beauty, as he spoke to his sister. “Lilith, how could you have raised a daughter to maturity since I saw you last? and such a beautiful one…”

Abruptly Lilith laughed, then smiled indulgently. “No, brother dear,” she corrected gently, “that’s not my daughter.” Squeezing a very maternal arm around the shoulders of the gaunt but very sensual adolescent beauty whose haunted eyes remained on Jareth, she introduced, “This is my son. Jareth, say hello to your nephew, Ethan Ashley Langford. He has your eyes, don’t you think?”

And for the second time in five minutes, Jareth’s breath stopped vocally, caught in his error; but of course, it was a young man standing before him, he could see that now, once it had been poin­ted out; but of course, the flat chest too flat even for a flat-chested girl, and of course, the gentle bulge within the tight pants that was perfectly observable if one were the least inclined to notice, and the face – yes, definitely a youthful male face, but indeed one of great beauty – “Well, one of my eyes anyway,” the older man smiled in a brief attempt to minimize his gaffe.

The young head inclined respectfully, long pale silken tresses swaying gently. “My lord,” the quiet male voice greeted politely, lush sensual lips that could indeed raise the pulse of any man – and Jareth felt, unwilled, his own bulge swelling responsively.

Then he glanced sharply at his sister to read her eyes, to search for the reflection of his private thoughts in her eyes, for Lilith’s eyes always saw more than was visible to normal sight; even more than Jareth’s second-sight, Lilith’s witch-eyes saw all and knew more. But whether she read Jareth’s sudden arousal or not, she was still smiling indulgently at his error, and said nothing. So Jareth ig­nored it too – whatever she knew, she knew – and spoke to his nephew. “Hello, Ethan. I’m sure we’ll enjoy becoming better acquainted. How old are you, Ethan?”

“Eighteen, Uncle.”

“Eighteen already! My servant Paul is also eighteen. Paul, show the prince to one of the guest rooms and entertain him for awhile. I’m sure you two will find a lot to talk about, while my sis­ter and I become reacquainted. And be sure to let Maedel know there will be two more for supper tonight.”

“Yes, my lord,” Paul acknowledged, then nodded obeisance to the guest, and indicated the stairway with a gesture of his arm. “Please come with me, my lord.” And the two teenagers exited, leaving the older pair alone.

“Why so long?” Jareth inquired of his sister, as they strolled over to a nearby couch together, arms still fondly hugging.

“I could ask the same of you,” Lilith reminded, and a tiny smile ghosted her pale lips. “You walked out of my wedding, or don’t you remember?”

“That was twenty years ago.”

“A woman doesn’t forget.”

Thinly disguised contempt veiled Jareth’s face, but he kept his remarks non-committal. “Where is Valerian, didn’t he come with you?”

“Would you have let him in the front door?”

The contempt deepened. “No.”

The woman’s hand gently squeezed his shoulder in a warm gesture to defuse the incipient battle. “He’s not here, Jareth. He’s dead.”

Jareth hardly knew how to take the news, but no sadness darkened his face. “Then you have my condolences, sister,” he responded simply. “What happened?” Reaching over to the side-table, he poured them each a brandy.

“We’ve run into some trouble, Jareth, and that’s why I’m here now,” Lilith admitted, taking the proffered crystal glass. “For years we’ve had trouble with a tribe of barbarians on our west bor­der, the Voradis: border skirmishes, maybe two- or three-day battles, nothing more. Until earlier this year. Then they seemed to increase in strength and armaments, and the battles became more frequent and more costly. And finally we discovered why.”

Jareth could guess what she was about to say.

“Our own army had begun to support them, secretly… and then last month it wasn’t a secret any­more, and our entire force changed sides, save for a few loyal officers and a handful of infantry. We lost everything.”

“How did Valerian die?”

“Two assassins murdered him while he slept.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“Jareth,” she interrupted sharply, rising from the couch to walk around the room. “No, he didn’t die gloriously in battle like you intend to. He never was a warrior – I realize that made him less than a man in your eyes – but not everyone is genetically inclined to lead an army.”

Jareth shrugged. “Then it’s obvious why you lost yours – if their king would not lead them, they found another king. You married a eunuch, Lilith.”

Irritation tightened the woman’s lips. “You made that comment twenty years ago, Jareth, and nearly lost an eye over it.” A casual caress touched Jareth’s left cheek near his odd-colored eye with its near-blind paralyzed blown pupil.

With a snort, Jareth turned his head away from her touch. “That was probably the only time in his life that Valerian ever used his fists – and he had to be stone-drunk to do that.”

“You were both stone-drunk. How is your eye? did it ever heal?”

A brief shake of head. “No. But even one-eyed, I can still lead my own army.” Jareth’s lips tightened into a shadow of a smile. “You know, I’m surprised you didn’t command your forces in the place of that impotent drone. If any woman could command troops, you could, my lovely twin.”

The woman with the same long pale shag of hair shrugged. “I did whatever had to be done,” she admitted sparingly. “And then, after Valerian’s murder, I escaped with Ethan… and I came here to ask for your help… and your army.”

“You have it – of course,” Jareth assured without hesitation; and then suggested with an ironic grin, “I don’t supposed the little pup is a warrior either?”

“No,” Lilith admitted freely. “Ethan’s interests lie elsewhere, as did his father’s.”

The grin tightened disparagingly. “Then you whelped a little filly after all… actually, I’m surprised Valerian was able to sire anything at all.”

“Jareth, after twenty years, I’ve come for your help, not your insults.” She stood before her brother’s seated figure. “Don’t make me regret coming here.”

He reached both hands for her. “It’s good to see you, Lilith. I’ll do what I can for you… You realize that with Valerian dead, that means Ethan is now king.”

“Yes, but he’s so young,” she admitted. “He knows little about ruling an empire.”

“Then it’s time he learned. You remember, I was fifteen when I inherited Father’s kingship.”

Lilith smiled in agreement. “Of course, but you’re different than Ethan.”

“Lilith, he can’t be all Langford pabulum. He’s got your blood, he’s a Tremayne. It’s time he learned to be a Tremayne. Any nephew of mine must be ready to command and rule. He’ll learn, sister.”

“Conquer and command, that’s your life, my dear brother.”

Then she kissed him again, a quick peck on the lips. “I’d like to rest now, if I could. Ethan’s probably dead asleep by now – we’ve hardly rested at all on our journey here; for the past month we’ve worked our way through the roughest trails through the mountains to evade capture, lived off our meager hunting skills, and slept hidden on the ground every night. I’ve nearly forgotten what the luxury of a bed is like.”

Immediately Jareth rose to his feet, reached for her. “Of course. I’ll show you to a room, then I’ll call Maedel to wait on you. I’m sorry, I have no female servants here, except for Maedel, and she’s my kitchen maid.”

“A serving wench? Jareth, no.” Disapproval played in the queen’s smile. “I’ve suffered humilities and hardships enough on this journey. Please allow your guest the necessity of a proper body-servant while I’m here.” A sly glint lit her eyes. “That pink-haired boy of your – is he a good chamber-servant?”

“Lilith, please,” Jareth begged. “Yes, Paul is an excellent attendant, but for godsake, Lilith, he’s a boy. You need a lady-in-waiting, you need a maid. I’ll send word to the village for any well-suited girl.”

“I’d like Paul to attend me.”

Jareth accompanied her up the stairs. “That’s hardly appropriate for a queen.”

“Come now, Jareth, since when have you ever been concerned over propriety?”

“Since my sister decided she wanted a male slave to attend to her bath and dressing.” Opening the door to a large bed-chamber, he ushered her into the spacious room dominated by a large curtained bed in the middle of the hardwood floor. Huge heavy tapestries decorated the stone walls, and a wide granite fireplace on the far wall now stood dark and empty, although a good supply of firewood to the side promised a roaring fire later. “I’ll let Paul serve Ethan,” he offered. “I’m sure two eighteen-year-old boys have a lot to talk about, and that’s much more appropriate. And I assure you, you would find Maedel more than sufficient…”

“I want Paul,” the pale-faced woman smiled insistently.

Jareth knew this was one battle-skirmish he’d never win, but he attempted lamely, “Paul is my private body-servant. If I give him to you, then who is to attend me?”

Lilith surveyed her new quarters, then turned an astute smile on her brother. “You’re not con­cerned about propriety or losing an attendant – you’re disturbed about losing your bed-warmer for awhile, that’s it, isn’t it?”

“How do you know that?” Jareth demanded, then realized belatedly that he had just made a statement of admission. “Dammit, Lilith,” he muttered, “This isn’t the first time your witch-powers have embarrassed me.”

Lilith chuckled. “It didn’t take witch-powers to discern that, brother dear, just woman’s intui­tion. And I doubt you’re embarrassed. Nevertheless, I still want him.”

“Fine,” Jareth finally acquiesced, “you may have Paul as long as you like. But please, I beg you not to abuse him, he’s a good young man.”

“Now, Jareth…” she started to protest playfully.

“Lilith, I know you. I’ve suffered under your witch-powers many times. Please don’t play your games with him.”

“Very well,” she agreed with a smile. “Now would you please have Paul draw my bath? After I rest awhile, I’d like to wash all this filth off before supper. It’s been a month since I’ve had a decent bath as well as a decent bed.” Then reaching a hand behind his head, she drew his face closer for another little kiss.

“Very well, my lady sister,” Jareth acknowledged, then left her to sleep. He would find Paul and prepare him as best he could – as though it would do any good, preparation or no.

. . . . .

 _to be continued someday_ …


End file.
